


Who are we to find ourselves in other people's beds?

by DistractionCake



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: (as an interesting villain/antagonist mind you), Angst, F/F, Ontari's Wasted Potential, Post-Episode: s03e07 Thirteen, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-08-16 04:50:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8087920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DistractionCake/pseuds/DistractionCake
Summary: PREVIEW:
"As the doors to the Throne Room open, Clarke feels all the air leave her lungs. There, strewn across the floor, are all the Natblidas."
SUMMARY:
The aftermath of 3x07. 
(Sorry.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> [crossposting-in-progress]
> 
> Wrote this a while back (the words would just _not_ leave me alone) and I have finally decided to post it.
> 
> (apologies, apologies.)

 

* * *

 

 

Clarke's not sure how long she stands there, staring at the blood-soaked bed. _Her_ blood-soaked bed. It's been long enough that Murphy's taken a seat, his back to the doors. It's been long enough that he's stopped banging his head against them, by the time the doors finally open.

Murphy rushes to stand and look at the person standing there.

Clarke only continues to stare at the bed.

"Wanheda," Titus's voice rings out. "It is done."

When no response from Clarke comes, Titus sighs.

He speaks again, this time softer, "Clarke. A new Commander has been chosen. Please come."

Clarke closes her eyes and swallows hard, her throat dry from her all the tears she has shed.

She finally turns around and nods at him.

She's not doing this for Titus.

But for _her._

Because one of _her_ Natblidas has been chosen and Clarke -

_Aden is the most promising of my novitiates. If I should die today, he will likely succeed me._

Clarke needs to be there.

As Clarke moves to follow Titus, she turns and speaks for the first time in however long it has been.

"I'll be back," she says to Murphy.

_In this world, when people leave, they don't come back._

_I did._

Murphy just shakes his head, mutters a _whatever_ , as the doors lock him in once more.

 

* * *

 

As the doors to the Throne Room open, Clarke feels all the air leave her lungs. There, strewn across the floor, are all the Natblidas.

It doesn't take Clarke long to spot a blonde head of hair in a pool of black blood.

Clarke closes her eyes in pain.

_Yu gonplei ste odon._

"Ontari kom Azgeda, you have proven yourself worthy of the Commander's Spirit," Titus speaks, a bite in his tone that Clarke wonders if anyone else would detect.

Clarke opens her eyes and sees the other woman, covered in black blood, stand from the Throne.

A brief, angry thought of _That doesn't belong to you_ flashes in Clarke's head, before she shuts it down.

It does now.

And Clarke hates every moment of it.

Ontari kneels in front of Titus, her back to him. She hold up her hair, as Titus moves to present her with the Spirit.

_It's an AI._

The thing - whatever it is - takes. And a few moments later, Ontari stands and turns to face Titus.

A beat passes.

Before Clarke can even blink, Ontari has slashed Titus's throat.

The man collapses, not a single sound escaping his mouth.

Ontari stares at him, watches him quickly bleed to death, before she advances on a shocked Clarke.

Clarke blinks, seeing her coming closer, before she releases a sigh.

She is the new Commander, Clarke would probably not make it past the guards if she ran. And Clarke is too exhausted to even think about a fight. There's no adrenaline pumping through her veins. All Clarke feels now is so very, very tired.

She drops to her knees and closes her eyes.

_Commander of Death_

And she waits.

She hopes her people can come to forgive her some day, although Clarke suspects that most of them don't spare her a second thought much these days.

Her people will die tonight.

Clarke briefly wonders if any other outcome actually ever existed, or if she had only been postponing the inevitable from the moment the Ark was running out of air.

Clarke briefly hopes King Roan will find a way to keep some semblance of peace. Lexa's Coalition doesn't deserve to crumble.

_Lexa._

Clarke feels a stab of pain in her heart. And then an inappropriate burst of amusement bubbles up her throat as she realizes that her people will truly become the Thirteenth Station.

This is the Grounders' Unity Day.

The sound that escapes Clarke's mouth would be a laugh if she hadn't choked on it so severely.

Clarke stills once more as she waits, before she realizes that nothing has happened yet.

Clarke opens her eyes and glances up to see Ontari staring at her with narrowed eyes.

"She truly did love you," Ontari finally speaks.

Anger, so much anger floods Clarke's blood, because _how dare she_.

"If you're going to kill me, just get it over with!" Clarke shouts at her.

"But I'm not, Wanheda. Not yet, anyway."

"What?" Clarke asks, utterly confused.

"You have 24 hours to get Arkadia back in line and join us as the 13th Clan. If you do not comply, my armies will wipe out every living Sky Person."

_In a day's time, we lay waste to Arkadia and everyone within its walls._

Clarke shake her head at the memory, "Why are you doing this?"

"Let's call it … perspective, Clarke kom Skaikru," Ontari replies, before she continues. "Sentries! Escort Wanheda to prepare herself for her departure to Arkadia. She is personally delivering a message from me and no harm should come to her until she delivers it," Ontari smirks at her wording.

Clarke stands and gives one last glance at Titus.

"What?" Ontari barks at her. "Don't tell me you feel bad? He deserved it. _He killed me_."

Clarke's eyes widen at her phrasing.

"I mean _her_ ," Ontari finishes as a cruel laugh is released from her mouth.

Clarke turns and marches out of the room, black blood still coating her hands.

 

* * *

 

"We need to leave for Arkadia, _now,_ " Clarke orders as she rushes to collect her things.

"Nice to see you again too, Princess," Murphy snarks.

Clarke pauses at the nickname, before she continues.

"The new Commander gave us 24 hours to go stop Chancellor Pike."

"Pike? The self-important Earth Skills teacher? He's the Chancellor now?"

_You may be the chancellor, but I'm in charge._

"Not for long," Clarke almost growls.

"Look, I'm sure this is all very important, so why don't you just drop me off at the nearest tree and we - "

" _John_ ," Clarke cuts him off before speaking softly, "I need you."

She's on her knees grabbing her sketchbook from under the bed where she had placed it for safekeeping. She closes her eyes and exhales softly.

_He's the only one who knows_ , Clarke briefly thinks. It's selfish, but she fears that if no one is there to remind her, she may just think she made up everything about her relationship with Lexa.

"All Sky People outside of Arkadia are subject to a kill order. I'm under the Commander's protection for now, and if you stay with me I can extend the same to you. Plus, I need another friendly face for when I show up at Arkadia."

"I don't think anyone would ever describe my face as friendly," Murphy drawls.

" _And_ , I need you to explain this whole AI thing to me. Once we save Arkadia, I promise you can leave to do whatever it was you were doing before," Clarke finishes as she slightly turns her body, without getting up, in order to stare at Murphy, whose back is resting against the wall.

Murphy just stares at her, before he slowly moves to crouch beside her.

"When are you finally going to realize that they're not worth saving?" he whispers.

The words feel like a slap to the face. Clarke swallows as tears form in her eyes.

"They're all I have left," she whispers back.

The truth feeling more like crushing despair.

_They're all Clarke has left._

Murphy stares at her for another beat, looking for something - god knows what - before he finally stands back up.

"Well, do we get horses or something? Because I don't fancy being a hero, much less one that has to walk to do it."

An unexpected laugh comes out of Clarke's mouth.

He's still such an asshole, and somehow, it's a comfort.

She nods as she too stands.

She brushes her knees, before giving her room one last glance.

_Her last glance ever_ , if she's honest.

"You know," Murphy speaks as he waits for her by the door, "I really did have a good thing going before this whole mess. I dunno, if you're looking for a vacation after playing hero again…" he trails off.

"I don't think anyone would ever describe me as a hero. Not anymore, at least," Clarke says.

"Join the club, Clarke. We're all villains in the end. Pain, hate, envy," Murphy counts on his fingers, "Those are the ABCs of me. How 'bout you?"

Clarke barely has to think of them, before her answer comes spilling out, "Pain, vengeance, heartbreak."

"You get rid of them and there's nothing left, Clarke. So hold on tightly to them," Murphy smirks.

"You think that will bring me peace?" she quietly asks.

_I don't know if your death would bring me peace. I just know I don't deserve it._

"I think your peace died on that bed," he quietly answers.

"Yeah," Clarke answers, tears in her voice, "I think it did." She lets out a broken laugh at it. "You think there's a way to ever get it back?"

Murphy raises an eyebrow at her, "Let's go find out."

 


End file.
